09.02 & 09.03.11

The past couple of days have been a whirlwind of home improvements and a bit of a blur.  I had such a headache tonight that my head was pounding and, depending on my position, got worse.  It was probably nowhere near what a migraine would feel like, but for me it was pretty bad. 

We have moved the TV we had in our room down into the playroom, along with some shelves that used to be in Abigail's old room (now the office).  I think they look nice in the playroom.  We did a few other little things.

We painted three of the walls in our main living area.  It is something I've been talking about and wanting to do for quite some time now because I think I went a little overboard with the brown when we originally painted.  It was just too dark.  So I wanted to lighten the place up a little with an earthy green or greyish blue.  I went with the earthy green, and in one of our numerous visits to SACO this past week - I think Paul has gone there every day for the past 4 or 5 days - I persuaded Paul to pick up some paint and paint rollers, etc. 

The husband was not "go" for this activity.  He wanted to hire someone else to do the job - a very common and cost effective choice for home improvement activities here in the Dhahran, Aramco camp.  But this meant I would need to continue waiting and it would be weeks, possibly months, down the road.  I have never been good at waiting for anything.  The anticipation of anything I am looking forward to is almost unbearable at times.  I guess this is a bad thing, and sometimes things that may have been pleasant experiences become explosive nightmares. 

I had this vision in my mind of all of us laughing and playing together as we joyfully thrust paint over our walls.  I would easily and neatly get all the corners and edges - without a single drip.  Madeline would adorably paint the alphabet on the wall and maybe even a little picture of a flower for her Mommy before the walls are covered completely... even Abigail would gleefully roll - around any possibly drippings - while chewing on a disinfected paintbrush.  Paul, with his masculine and debonair style would cover the wall surface swiftly and smoothly with the mighty roller brush, frequently glancing over at me with a wink and a "Gosh I love the bajeezuz outta you, you sexy woman you!" comment here and there... sentimental music would be playing in the background timed to just the right moments as if we were in a movie... and oops! Silly me... I got some paint on my nose... and we would all laugh at the joy of this familial activity as our living area took on a more eclectic, warm  and inviting shape. 

Well, it was the complete opposite.

As I said before, P?  Not excited for this activity.  Complained almost the entire time about how we should have hired someone.  So irritated in fact that he took over production and did most of the painting - very messily - himself.  It reminded me of when Paul cooks.  He is an excellent cook and his dishes are scrumdiddleeuptious, but he makes a monstrous mess most of the time and I don't know that he does this on purpose - but he knows someone else will eventually clean it up.  So splatters of sauce are commonly found all over the stove and the dishes and the wall and the ceiling.  This is what happened with the paint too.  And it's not that I didn't add to the splatters.  Painting is HARD.  You really have to know how to hold the brush; what brush to use where; how to tape edges; being tall is a nice feature because with tall ceilings a ladder can only get a 5' 5" girl so high. And sometimes the brushes fall apart or won't roll properly.

So, I started while Paul sat in the playroom with the girls - a good idea really because neglect is not in our normal routine and seriously, the girls? Around paint? Not a good idea.  We started with an argument about us doing it ourselves - so I was in a GREAT mood after that.  I quite ficticiously and literally painted myself into a corner with that one.  By the end of it I was promised no help and was destined to paint the whole thing myself.  I was ready for some help after completing the first corner.  And after an embarassing and childish breakdown, he offered to help.  Then, in typical psycho fashion, I began complaining about having to do the un-fun part - taping and edges, and cleaning up - and how he wanted to do the fun part - the roller - and how that was unfair because this whole thing was my project and my idea (not something I would claim in a court of law now) and blah blah blah blah blaaahhhhheegghh!!! 

So eventually - he pretty much did the entire job.  He, reflecting on my past "bright idea" projects, felt he had to or it wouldn't get done and we would be surrounded by paint and clutter for months to come.  Besides, he is better with the paint brushes; taller; faster; it just worked. 

I can't help but feel like a failure a lot of the time.  It's depressing really.  I have these ideas in my head and they seem so perfect and grand in the fantasy and they just don't ever work out the way I imagine. I don't get the supportive, encouraging smiles and utter acceptance of whatever nutty idea I've come up with.  Is every idea I have really that awful? Presentation and planning are a big part of my routine downfall.  So how does one learn timing and patience when the only routine part of this life right now is the lack of a routine?

The finished product turned out nice.  Final touches will be applied tomorrow and then, hopefully, excluding a few minor changes, we will be done with home improvements for a while.  I feel bad that P's entire Eid vacation was spent doing home improvements.  It was good that we got all this stuff done, but I guess I should have worked in a little " r and r" for the guy. 

Wife of the year award for that one, eh?

In between all the blurpity derp and excriment our girls were adorable and as accomodating as a now 8 month old (yay!) and almost 3 year old can be under house arrest and boredom.  They need some serious play time and attention. 

Abigail is teetering on crawling.  She does the rock thing where she is up on all fours and only goes as far as she has to, to get whatever it is she wants to reach.  Madeline is amazing.  Potty training is going wonderfully.  She is also SO TALKATIVE.  Non-stop questions and ideas, and LOTS of quotes from Mom and Dad, which is a wake up call for me again as I tend to sound like a garbage mouth a lot - another place where there is major mondo room for improvement. 

So! Patience. Humility. Sacrifice. Clean up the potty mouth. Take better care of myself - because, apparently, I am filet mignon, but regularly served on the lid of a trash can. And take better care of my family. Some good goals - dontcha think?

In other news I tried out my crockpot for the first time.  I made a beef stew.  I think it turned out yummy.  I think P liked it.  When I finally convinced Mads to try it she looked at me, and with an enouraging nod said, " Mmm! Not so bad Mom." So that was nice. 

I took a few pictures during the past couple days but haven't loaded them yet so words will just have to do for now.

The nice thing about life is, tomorrow is another day. A day to make better.  A clean slate - once I get all the paint off of it.